Chapter 1
Alex
“Bend over,” I demand as I’m slipping the condom on, and the smile on her face as she looks back at me tells me she’ll enjoy it as much as I will.
She rests her hand on my brand new wooden desk and wiggles her round ass in front of me, before I spread her asscheeks and slide the tip of my cock down that valley.
“I’m going to come on this pretty little ass of yours.”
“Fuck me, Alex,” she begs and I raise an eyebrow and tilt my head, digging my fingernails into her asscheeks. “Please,” she pleads breathlessly.
There you go.
I push her down till her tits squash on my desk. Then I give her asscheeks another squeeze, hard enough to leave the mark of my fingers as she moans and begs while I tease her with my tip, slowly sliding along her drenching slit.
“Fuck,” I groan as I ease into her, feeling her clench around my cock. “How many times have I made you come tonight?”
“T-two-ooo,” she yells as I grab her ponytail and pull her head back, thrusting into her till my hips hit her ass, and feel the tip of my cock pushing against her. Fuck, it feels good.
Her pussy clenches hard around me before I pull all the way out, her juices dripping down her thighs.
I let my hand travel from her nape, down her spine, my fingers running between her asscheeks, till I feel the warm wetness between her trembling thighs.
“You’re making a mess,” I whisper while massaging her dripping entrance. He moans, pushing her ass against me, asking for more. I slap her entrance before sliding two fingers inside her, enjoying that mess coating my hand.
“Please, Alex,” she whimpers, dragging her fingernails on my desk as I leave her empty and needy.
“Taste yourself,” I demand while running my still warm fingers on her lips. I grunt when she sucks on them, moaning in satisfaction. “Do you like it?” I ask while swiftly grabbing my hard cock and plunging in into her pussy.
“Yes! Oh, god, yes!”
She screams over and over with every hard thrust. I plunge my finger into her mouth again, letting her suck on them harder and harder till she loses all control of her body and starts quivering around me. Her orgasm is squeezing my cock and I feel the pressure of those spasms around my tip as I pull out of her and swiftly take the condom off.
Looking at her bare dripping pussy, I stroke my cock once and that’s all it takes for me to come all over those rosy asscheeks.
“Oh god, Alex. I can’t move,” she says, with a satisfied sigh, while I watch her sweaty skin letting my cream run down the back of her thighs. Pure art. “Let my mouth clean you up,” she says eagerly, looking back at me and down at my cock.
“Maybe next time,” I promise, taking two washcloths from the bottom drawer. I use one on her before cleaning myself with the other. I kiss her shoulder as she stands up and tries to lean her back against my chest.
She keeps looking at me while we’re both getting dressed, fluttering her eyelashes as if wanting more of what she just got.
“Next time,” she says in a much more excited tone, and I instantly regret having made that promise. She’s getting too clingy.
Before I even open my mouth to answer, someone knocks on the door. Dodged an awkward conversation right there.
“Boss?” The anxious tone makes me frown. I guess break’s over. It’s Charlie, the new guy behind the bar. This is his first day, and it doesn’t help that Dave, my best bartender and right-hand, is not here. We still have an hour before closing, and Charlie’s already got that I’m-going-to-quit tone in his voice.
After making sure Christina is already dressed and ready to leave, I walk to the door and unlock it. Charlie’s eyes flicker between me and Christina, clearly forgetting why he’s there in the first place. “What do you need?” I ask, calmly walking towards the stairs and down to the bar.
“You said we are not to serve alcohol to anyone who’s visibly under the influence,” he says hurriedly, following me as close as possible.
“Exactly. That’s a rule. No exceptions.” Period.
He points to the end of the bar. “Well, that girl over there just threatened me because I wouldn’t serve her.”
I squint in that direction and try to make out which girl he’s talking about. “Which of the dozen girls are you talking about?”
“The redhead,” he quickly answers, as if surprised I hadn’t notice her before.
I pause and my eyes land on her.
Damn. He’s right. How did I not notice her before?
She’s wearing black high-heels and tight leather pants. The way her hips sway as she leans against the counter makes it hard not to look at that plump ass. For a second, I imagine how good my hands would feel on that leather. One word for her and I’d feel my palms burning the moment they hit that fabric.
“Do you see her?” he asks, interrupting my thought. “She’s drunk, right?”
Fucking hot, that’s what she is.
She’s wearing a plain white off-the-shoulder T-shirt that brings out the color of her long wavy red hair. I wonder if coming here wasn’t really something she planned. Don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful. But women tend to dress up more when they come here. Leaning against the bar, she’s tapping her credit card against her mouth.
Those full lips are too damn inviting for her own good.
I fight the urge to check out her boobs as she pushes her shoulders back when she sees me walk behind the counter in her direction.
She doesn’t look as wasted as Charlie believes she is. Has she really had too much to drink? I decide to slow down a bit to study her movements.
Finding it surprisingly hard to read her, I furrow my brows and keep watching her. She’s not that intoxicated, that much I can tell.
She’s like a kitten, biting the corner of her credit card and thinking nobody‘s watching.
What I can’t make out is why she’s here, why she looks so intent on getting drunk, why underneath that feisty look there’s a hint of vulnerability. And why do I want to know why? Fuck.
Walking in her direction, she’s now trying hard to keep a strong eye contact with me. Green. Fucking. Eyes. I should have known. She’s got green eyes. And in my experience, those are fucking trouble. Call it superstition or whatever you want to call it. The fact is, eyes like those were made to destroy me. They’re my fucking weakness. Goddamn kryptonite.
Shaking the goosebumps off of my arms and chest, I place my forearms on the counter, my hands an inch away from hers. “What can I get you?” I ask, my relaxed tone contrasting the loud music in the club.
I’m not sure why I asked her that since I’ve decided she’s not getting any alcohol until I make sure she’s here with friends.
She shamelessly frowns at Charlie before her goddamn mesmerizing eyes look into mine again.
Her velvety voice draws my attention to her lips. “I’d like a Black Russian, please,” she purrs.
Sorry, kitten. I’ll give you anything but that tonight.
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